Nude Modelling is Hard Work
by SomniPhobic
Summary: For Ichigo, a budding young painter, interest in Grimmjow and his body was purely artistic. But for Grimmjow, who didn't give two hoots about art, interest in Ichigo was sparked by something else entirely. Grimmjow x Ichigo / GrimmIchi. AU, Yaoi.
1. Beware of Cougars

**Nude Modelling is Hard Work**

**Warning: **This story will, at some points, contain delicious man-sex. Please do not proceed, if you're not into that. (But really, who wouldn't be?)

**Disclaimer:** Bleach and its characters belong to Tite Kubo.

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>**: Beware of Cougars**

On that particular Sunday morning, Grimmjow woke up with a hangover hammering at his head. Squinting at the too-bright sunlight streaming through his window, he sat up and let the cotton sheets slide down to his waist. He stretched, feeling the sleek muscles of his tall frame tighten and loosen, and sighed wearily. Long, calloused fingers lost themselves in bright blue hair as he tried to remember events of the previous night.

Because the hot, naked woman lying next to him was a _complete stranger_. Sure, Grimmjow was in the habit of having one-night stands, but he usually remembered these kinds of things the next morning.

"Shit."

Then, at the worst possible moment, that curvaceous female body next to him stirred to life.

"Hey, babe." The voice purred, mature and confident.

"Uh, hey." He responded dumbly.

A perfect eyebrow rose, "You don't remember _anything_, do ya?"

The young man shook his head, no.

"Well, you _were_ pretty wasted," The woman shrugged as she got out of bed; she didn't seem the least bit angry, "Threw up all over my good dress."

"My bad." He muttered.

"Why don't you make it up to me, hmm?" She smiled mischievously.

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><p>"Do I <em>have<em> to get naked?"

"Oh, hon," Rangiku chuckled, "No need to be self-conscious. If I remember correctly, your body is _magnificent._"

"Tch."

"The students are going to go _wild._" She laughed shrilly, tossing back her strawberry blond hair.

"Why am I doing this, woman?" Grimmjow snarled.

"Mmm?" Rangiku was all innocence, "You agreed to make it up to me, remember?"

"I thought you meant 'have-more-sex-with-me', _not_ 'come-be-a-nude-model-for-my-art-class'."

"And yet, here we are."

He shrugged, "I keep my word."

"My, my. What a gentleman," She smiled cheekily, while her hand reached behind him to cop a feel, "You'd make a great boyfriend, but I really do prefer older men."

Grimmjow reminded himself _never_ to get involved with cougars again. They were just too crafty.

"So," She batted her eyelashes, "get naked for me, darling?"

"I'd better get paid for this, woman."

"Yes, yes." She said noncommittally before giving the young man a good slap in the ass, "Now let's go. We're late for class."

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><p>Ichigo sat in his usual spot against the studio's back wall, sketchpad and pencil in hand. The professor was late, but that was nothing new. He began a light tapping rhythm with his foot, and stared up at the ceiling. Beside him, Renji was slowly drifting into dreamland. As the tell-tale clicking of stiletto heels approached, the young man gave his friend a sharp jab in the ribs.<p>

Today, the woman standing at the front of the room looked especially cheerful.

"Hello, everybody," she grinned with a certain mystery, "I have a surprise for you~"

Ichigo immediately tensed. Last time there was a "surprise" in this sketching class, he was clawed by ten different cats.

With dread, he heard the door slowly creaking open, fully expecting the noisy arrival of a pack of dogs. What followed, however, was absolute silence.

_Surprise__, indeed._

Twenty-something pairs of eyes widened as a living Greek statue walked into the room. Three words flashed through Ichigo's artistic mind at that moment: _perfect male specimen_. The stranger had a head of wild, bright-blue hair. His feline-like eyes flashed dangerously as a slight scowl played at the thin lips below his sharp nose. He was tall, but not lanky. Under the loosely tied cotton robe, Ichigo could picture those muscles rippling and flexing with every fluid motion of limb and torso.

"Today," The professor announced while everyone else ogled, "I thought we would, ah, _explore_ the male anatomy."

"Grimmjow, my dear," she addressed the young man, who was now standing still, "If you please."

"Can't believe I'm doing this." He sounded annoyed, but his voice was low and a little bit rough and _so appealing_.

As the cloth previously clinging to his fine frame dropped to the floor, so did every person's jaw. Ichigo couldn't _believe _the naked glory of the tanned body at the front. His hungry eyes wandered lower and lower and _lower _until he saw _it_ – even when flaccid, _it _was quite a piece of work. Unconsciously, Ichigo's slick tongue slipped out of his mouth, running across his soft upper lip. _Oh yes. That electric blue hair was completely natural._

For a cold early-spring morning, the air in that studio was incredibly steamy.

"Well, not that anyone's actually listening;" the art teacher was amused as she eyed her students, "But Grimmjow will stay in each pose for three minutes. Try to get as much as you can. This is a rare opportunity~"

As she said it, Matsumoto gave the class a wink.

"Wait, I have to _pose_?"

The woman shrugged, "You're already naked, darling, why not let loose a little?"

Decidedly now ignoring the she-devil, Grimmjow scanned the room of art students. He smirked smugly as he saw that most of them could only manage to sneak a fleeting glance. Some of the young women even looked a little faint. _One_ person, however, kept a steady gaze on him – a young man at the back of the room, whose guileless brown eyes were raking down the planes of his body, _devouring_ it by means of sight. The feral smile on his face widened as he watched those eyes cast down. Pearly teeth began chewing on a plump bottom lip as the artist began his frantic sketching.

Amused and intrigued, Grimmjow studied the young man, noting his fiery orange hair, his expanse of smooth, sun-kissed skin, and the lithe, muscular frame.

As he continued to look, he caught sight of a pink tongue peeking out between soft-looking lips, only to sneak back in moments later. Idly, he began to wonder how that unwittingly sinful mouth would taste, and how perfectly it would wrap around his –

In that moment, Grimmjow's not-too-bright mind realized that getting wood while his naked body was on display in front of a crowd was only _slightly_ more embarrassing than, well, _being naked in front of a crowd_. And so, even though he was already becoming aroused by the dirty thoughts circling his head, he kept things under control.

To be sure, he preferred women, but the occasional man was not a problem – especially when it was someone as delectable as _this_.

Suddenly, without warning, the young man looked back up. In a moment of absolute electricity, soft chocolate met shocking azure for the first time. The young artist's reaction went straight to Grimmjow's groin – that widening of brown eyes, the slight parting of plump lips, and the tell-tale red tinge on his face – e_very _subtle movement became just a little erotic.

_Oh, shit._

Having closed his eyes, Grimmjow, took a deep breath and counted to three, trying to think of un-sexy things – like sick kittens – that might quench the fire racing through his body.

He didn't remember being _this_ easily aroused.

Across the room, Ichigo was having similar dilemmas. The tempting, naked male form was provocative enough without said male form making note of his own presence. He now felt the heat of that stare, and began to feel as naked as the nude model himself. Studying the life-like figures on his paper, however, he had to admit that it was the best work he'd done in months. Matsumoto, though a little air-headed, was right – this _was_ a rare opportunity. Lust was a potent source of inspiration, especially for a young man at his prime who was, in fact, _not_ getting enough. A sigh, wistful and soft and a little _lustful_, escaped his lips. He was glad that Renji had nodded off to sleep at some point, so that he wouldn't have to explain this bizarre behaviour.

The kid was provoking him – Grimmjow was sure of it now. Why _else _would those brown eyes become so hooded with want? And why else would he _sigh _like that? If he was good at nothing else, Grimmjow was quite adept at everything to do with sex (and machinery, but that wasn't useful at all, was it?); he could easily tell when someone was aroused.

"Well," Rangiku piped up, "That's enough. Wasn't it _fun_, everyone?"

With both relief and disappointment, the entire class watched as the nude model slipped back into his linen robe and walked out of the studio – though not without one last smouldering glance at a certain student.

Ichigo knew that he needed more time with this man – to study him more in detail. Every artist had a muse, and it seemed that he'd just found his.

Too bad he would never see him again.

In any case, that was what he thought until he saw the nude model coming out of Matsumoto's office, now fully dressed. Ichigo swallowed nervously. He came only to return some borrowed art supplies; this turn of events was completely unexpected.

"Uh," Hesitantly, he spoke up, "Excuse me."

The other young man turned, and there was a wicked flash of recognition in his too-blue eyes, "What's up?"

"I was wondering if you'd be the model for my next painting."

Feline eyes, usually apathetic, now widened in surprise.

"You don't have to get naked," Ichigo added quickly, "And I'll pay you."

"I don't do this for a living, ya know. I'm just a mechanic." Grimmjow's smirk became just a little predatory as he scanned the deserted hallway.

"Oh."

"But sure, I'll do it."

"Really? Thank you."

The young artist's face was lit up by a bright, genuine smile, and Grimmjow couldn't help but feel, well, _something_. Slowly, he sauntered over to his unsuspecting prey.

"Oh, and another thing – I don't need the money."

"Hmm? But –"

Ichigo felt his open mouth being invaded by a slick, foreign tongue as sculpted lips meshed with his own. It was a hot, _searing_ kiss. He felt heat flaring _all over_ when strong arms circled behind his back and suddenly pushed their bodies together.

Oh sweet, _sweet_ heaven. Grimmjow was having a hard time keeping things under control. He readily devoured the young man (whose name he still didn't know), and was especially pleased when he felt a tentative response. As his mind registered the quiet sounds of pleasure, he was further encouraged to press against the smaller frame.

The air became heavy and hot as two strangers continued to explore and feel and _consume_ until, finally, they parted in need for air.

Grimmjow's eyes narrowed with satisfaction as he watched a thin thread of saliva trailing from the young man's swollen mouth to his own. When there was enough air in his lungs, he announced, with some wicked implication:

"I prefer other methods of payment."

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><p><em>To be continued.<em>

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><p>It's been a while, hasn't it? XD<p>

I hope you enjoyed the first instalment of this new story as much as I enjoyed writing it. The idea came a while ago, but I just never had the time to just sit down and write it.

If I got to study naked Grimmjow, I'd be an artist too...

As always, reviews and comments are greatly appreciated!


	2. Good Things Always Happen to Bad People

**Nude Modelling is Hard Work**

**Disclaimer:** Bleach and its characters belong to Tite Kubo.

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: <strong>**Good Things Always Happen to Bad People**

"_Ah!_"

Ichigo gripped the sheets beneath him as his back arched off the bed. His breaths came only in pants, his vision was a little hazy, and his body was flushed with heat. He didn't remember when he put down his paintbrushes. He didn't remember how all his clothes were removed. _Hell_, _he was starting to forget his own name._ The subject of his painting, also the cause of his current predicament, was beyond amused as he gazed down at Ichigo.

"Mmm," his voice was low and lustful, "if only _I_ were an artist."

Grimmjow paused only to appraise his handiwork. The young man beneath him had already been reduced to a panting mess, as spirited brown eyes now darkened with desire. He took notice of the bruised, red and parted lips, and couldn't help but capture and abuse them once again. Ichigo moaned in the most delicious way, and all he wanted was to hear that sound _over and over_. While his tongue explored the other's hot cavern, his mischievous hands wandered across the expanse of smooth skin, revelling in the naked and heated sensations.

If only breathing _wasn't _an absolute necessity. With reluctance, Grimmjow released Ichigo from the hot, wet kiss – though he was _far _from done.

The young artist took in large gulps of air as he tried to form coherent sentences. Though his mouth was now free, his mind was still muddled by all this _touching and feeling and licking and biting._ It was so _very_ unfair.

"I think…we should…_hah_…continue…"

Grimmjow grinned wickedly, flashing his dangerous canines. "I agree," He said, and quickly returned to his current task – taking his hands and mouth lower and_ lower_.

"_Ah!_" For the second time that afternoon, Ichigo made that sound, halfway between a scream, a yelp, and a moan of pleasure.

"I meant with…the…_ohh…_the painting."

"Hmmm…" The subject stopped to contemplate his artist's request, "Only if you're naked."

"_What?_"

"Well, I get _bored_ just posing. I'm no professional, ya know."

Ichigo rolled his eyes in exasperation as he pushed the bigger man off, "Fine."

_Honestly, the __things he did for art_.

Muttering "pervert" under his breath, he got off the bed and sat down behind the easel. Under the scrutiny of those electric blue eyes, the young man couldn't help but become embarrassed. He didn't even need to guess how those paint smudges on his inner thighs got there; the hickeys and bite marks littering his body pretty much spoke for themselves.

At this point, he really didn't trust himself with a paint brush.

"Can I at least…put my apron back on?"

"Ooh," Grimmjow teased, "Are we playing newlyweds?"

"I just don't wanna get oil paint all over me."

"Why not? I'll wash it off for you after."

Ignoring the comment, Ichigo quickly grabbed the smock and covered himself.

Meanwhile, his model got out of bed wearing nothing but a pair of royal-blue boxer briefs. He stood against the stark white walls of the artist's apartment, wild yet refined like a practiced predator about to pounce.

"Okay, hold that." Ichigo commanded.

"I thought you were gonna make me do somethin' crazy."

"Hmm. Tempting, but no."

"Now," the young man looked from his unfinished canvas to Grimmjow's eyes, "seduce the audience."

"_Yessir_." He purred as his too-blue eyes smouldered wickedly, making Ichigo's body tingle.

This man knew exactly what he was doing.

"Are you seriously a mechanic?" It was hard to believe – although the thought of Grimmjow's body smudged with grease wasn't completely unappealing.

"Heh, yeah."

"_Not _a prostitute?"

"Hell, no. But I'd be pretty good at _that_. "

"You know," Ichigo studied his subject carefully before turning back to the canvas, "You're not half bad at modelling, either."

"Yeah?"

"Mm-hm. Why don't you try it?"

"Humph, I've been scouted, but…" Grimmjow's handsome face was marred by a scowl, "it's boring."

"You're doing it for _me_…" Unaware of what he was saying, Ichigo naively let the sentence slip.

"Well," His demeanour immediately changed; those eyes were almost glowing, "Ya got somethin' I want."

Because he didn't know how to respond, the flustered young man continued to focus on his painting. But the silence only made his model's presence even more unbearable. Grimmjow had a way of creating sexual tension in people; the fact that his underwear hung so perilously low on his hips didn't exactly help.

In this unbearable heat, minutes melted into hours as Ichigo immersed himself in his work.

"So," eventually, the mood became unnerving, "Why don't you tell me more about yourself?"

The taller man laughed mischievously, "_Why don't I lick ya all over_?"

With a clatter, the uncooperative paintbrush escaped the artist's hand and fell onto the floor. He was mortified not only at the slip of professionalism, but also by the slight twitch he felt at his groin. When did he become so sensitive to just words? Sure, he hadn't gotten laid in a while, and yes, he was gay, but Ichigo didn't react like this to just anyone. What was it about Grimmjow that made his body want to do such_ dirty _things?

Meanwhile, Grimmjow was getting impatient. He didn't mind being a model for Ichigo, really, but he was _so seriously turned on_ (but then, what else was new?). All he could think of was the lithe body under the thin fabric of that paint-smeared apron. The smooth bottom sitting on that stool was _bare_ and just _waiting_ to be taken. He wondered if Ichigo would be angry at being interrupted…_again_. He wondered if Ichigo's interest in him was purely artistic. For a brief moment, he even began to wonder what kind of things made Ichigo smile…he had such a nice smile…he should smile more –

Wait..._what?_

"What's wrong? You wanna take a break?" The pleasant voice entered his ears and made Grimmjow look from the ceiling to the young artist's face.

A strange feeling fluttered in his chest as heat coloured his face, his neck, even his ears. He swallowed, shook his head, and obediently stayed still.

_What the fuck was that?_

Ichigo shrugged, "You look bored. Why don't we stop for today? I need to get some rest too."

"Wait –"

"Hmm?"

Because his model was being surprisingly tame, poor Ichigo had forgotten that neither of them was particularly well-dressed. When he turned around to pack up his art supplies, something snapped inside the beast behind him. Before he realized what was going on, the artist had been picked up and thrown into his bed.

"Wha – _ahh_…"

It seemed that Grimmjow wanted to make good on his earlier promise. His mouth travelled from Ichigo's earlobes, to his jaw line, his collarbones, then down to his –

"_Ohh!_"

"Here, huh?" The rough tongue and sharp teeth continued to assault the little nub on his chest through the fabric.

"Sh-_shut up_." The fiery-haired young man was well aware of the tent forming behind his apron down below.

"Ichigo." Grimmjow's hoarse voice was irresistible as his hips ground down slowly.

"_Hah_…"

In this smouldering room, even the air shimmered with the heat of arousal. One spark could ignite them both.

"_Ichigo._"

"Hnn?" It was all he could manage with his barely-functioning mind.

"I want you." The hot mouth was at his shoulder, nibbling and sucking and kissing.

"_Mmm..._I want you too, but..."

Grimmjow was so excited to hear those sweet words leave the young man beneath him; he stopped everything he was doing, "But what?"

Ichigo recovered his breathing and recollected his thoughts. He hoped his entire body didn't look as flushed as he felt.

"I don't usually...do_ this..._with people I don't know..."

His hooded brown eyes, slightly open lips, along with the rest of his warm, supple frame made Grimmjow's mouth go dry. In that moment, he decided that he wouldn't let Ichigo outside again. How could _this_ belong to anyone but _him_? Quickly, he swooped down and captured the young man's mouth, toying with his slick tongue as his hips resumed their erotic motion.

Ichigo was beginning to feel like he no longer had bones. He clung onto Grimmjow's chiselled muscular frame for dear life as numbing bliss spread through his body. There was something wrong; he was being _way_ too docile. But then, what could he possibly do about this man? He was about to come just from a little kissing and grinding.

"Hey, you got any lube and condoms?"

A little apprehension crept into his pleasure-hazed mind as the young artist shook his head no. This was happening _way_ too quickly. He watched as his model moved regally around the room, first taking condoms out of his jacket pocket (_of course _he had some), and then grabbing a tube of oil paint.

"Wait!"

Grimmjow turned to see red-faced Ichigo now sitting up on the bed.

"What's up? You wanna stop?"

"Well..." the young man mumbled something inaudible.

"What d'you say?" He moved closer onto the bed.

"The paint...is kinda expensive."

Grimmjow gave a loud bark of laughter, relieved that he wasn't being rejected. He wasn't used to thinking of anything or anyone as adorable, but he couldn't help it at that moment.

"Don't worry," he murmured by the young man's ear, feeling the shudder that ran through the other's body, "I'll buy ya some more."

Ichigo was embarrassed beyond belief, especially since that paint was the colour used for Grimmjow's electric-blue hair. Reluctantly, he nodded, allowing himself to be turned over on his hands and knees. He felt himself being intruded by a paint-slathered finger, while another hand came around his front to wrap around his hard shaft. Discomfort was gradually being overpowered by pleasure, even as another finger entered, and then another until –

"_Ahh!_" Grimmjow struck the right spot and, hearing the sound, continued to do so with his three digits. All Ichigo could do was moan and pant and sway his hips begging for _more_.

"Get ready." When he couldn't take it anymore, the taller man removed his undergarments and quickly rolled the condom on.

He aligned his tip with Ichigo's entrance and penetrated with one smooth thrust. The wet heat around him tightened, and suddenly the young man's body spasmed with release. He came with a loud cry, his essence staining the dishevelled smock no one remembered to take off.

"Holy shit." Grimmjow groaned.

The artist was a panting, boneless mess in the afterglow, and he felt himself growing inexplicably hard at the sight. Quickly, he pulled out (not missing the _sexy _whimper of disappointment), and turned the other man around to lie on his back. With a quick motion, he spread those delectable thighs and re-entered the body beneath him, eliciting a lazy and satisfied moan.

"_Holy shit._" He repeated.

No longer able to restrain himself inside the soft, moist heat, Grimmjow began thrusting _hard_ and _deep _and _fast_. There was no transition, no build-up; he'd waited long enough for this. All Ichigo could do was cry out for more as his member hardened once again.

Pleasure came crashing in waves, sweeping them along, _drowning _them.

"Grimm..._mmm_...so _big_..."

"Oh, _f-fuck_!" Grimmjow was _so damn close._

As he continued to slam into the willing body beneath him, heat coiled in his abdomen. He sensed by the shuddering that Ichigo was nearing completion too. _Just a little more…_

"_AHH! Gimmjow!_"

This time, the tightening walls sent him over the edge, roaring as he found his release.

"_Ichigo!_"

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><p>The next morning, Ichigo woke up feeling sore <em>everywhere<em>. He felt a heavy arm draped across his stomach and found its owner sleeping contently. Memories of the night before came flooding back as the artist felt his face grow unnaturally hot – not _once_, but _three times_, with a _stranger_ and _paint_... He remembered being barely awake in the bathtub as skilful hands washed him clean.

Oh, the _humiliation._ Quickly, he buried himself under the blanket as the beast beside him stirred to life.

"Wanna continue?" The seductive voice teased, "I meant the painting, of course."

Ichigo groaned in defeat; life was never going to be quite the same.

And years later, when they moved in together as lovers, that first portrait of Grimmjow would hang right above their bed.

For the sake of Ichigo's sanity, paint was never against used during sex.

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><p><em>Fin.<em>

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><p><strong>Edit:<strong> I've been told that blue paint is toxic. So um... don't try this at home, kids. :D

I'm very sorry it took so long, but I've been pretty busy with school and work. So here it is! Second and final instalment. I really didn't see this going anywhere, so I decided to end it instead of dragging it on.

I hope you enjoyed it!

As always, reviews and comments are greatly appreciated.


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